Bipolar Disorder makes me look like a douche.

When I am manic I am rude and obnoxious. I can't help it. I laugh at people and am really irritable. It makes me look insensitive and rude. I remember sitting in church and a guy took some wine for communion and he coughed I laughed out loud. It was rude but I couldn't help it. I remember one other time I snapped at my roomate and she cried all day because of it. I am hard to live with when  I am manic.

When I am depressed I can appear rude and distant. I don't smile so people think I am mad at them. I don't say polite things like "thank you" and " please" so people are insulted. I don't feel like being polite. My expression is hard to look at. People get upset. I remember sitting in McDonald's and this guy just came up to me and started lecturing me about my unhappy expression.

Honestly I know I have an illness but it makes me angry that people get mad at me for being sick. I can't help my behavior. I am not doing it on purpose. People end up not liking me because of it. I feel bad about myself like maybe I could control it. Then I realise that it's an illness and you don't have to look happy when you are sick.

Shake the dust off my feet.

I am at a poing in my life where I am ready to shake the dust off my feet and look ahead to the future. I have been dealing with feelings of guilt , anger, resentment, and shame for toot long. I want to start over and put the past behind me.

When I was six years old I was sexually abused by some neighborhood kids. This went on for 2 years until I was eight years old. The ringleader of the group moved away and that's how it ended. I was forced to masturbate in front of the kids and have sex and do other sexual things in front of the kids or I would get beat up. I came home from one of these "sessions" and my mother was sitting on the couch with her boyfriend. I was crying and she asked what was wrong. I didn't tell her what was happening because she was with her boyfriend. I felt so alone after that. I didn't tell anyone what happened until I went to college. I always resented my mother for that. She was more involved with her boyfriends than me. I wanted to join the Girl Scounts and my mother didn't seem interested. It really hurt my feelings. I didn't go to my mother for another thing after that. I felt like she was more engrossed in her own life and didn't care about me.

This abuse really messed up my sexuality growing up. I would feel guilty for masturbating and listening to Prince. When I got married I felt so dirty and naughty. I didn't want to be a nasty girl. I wanted to be a good girl .Good girls don't want sex. So I pretend that I don't want sex. It's hard with my husband because we hardly have sex at all. I feel like that is my fault. I feel guilty for wanting sex and I feel guitly for not having sex. It's very complicated. I feel very uncomfortable expressing my sexuality.

When I am manic or hypo-manic my sexuaity is hard to control. I feel guitly again because I can't control my sexuality when I am manic or hypo-manic. The feelings of guilt are overwhelming. Especially when I am depressed. I feel so ashamed of my illness.

When I went to college I was so excited. I wanted to get a degree and become a writer. I wanted to get a degree so bad. That's why I stayed  four years I wanted to get a degree. I spent twenty grand in student loans and I don't have a degree to show for it. I kept getting depressed when I was in school. I almost dropped out but I kept going because I wanted a degree. In 2002 I tried to finish my degree but I kept getting depressed. I couldn't finish no matter how hard I tried. This devestated me. I realised that I couldn't go to school. It really made me feel like a loser. I couldn't finish what I started. I felt so lazy and stupid.

Then I couldn't work. I tried to work but I couldn't do it. I was so bummed out about that. I felt so lazy and a loser. I tried to get on SSDI three times. Three times I was denied. I felt like a fraud. I felt like a liar. Maybe I could work. I tried but I couldn't find a job. I felt so discouraged. I would have depressions and feel like a burden to my husband who is supporting us. I felt so guilty about not being able to work. I knew I couldn't work. My sleep problems makes it impossible to have a regular day job. I get depressed then I can't do anything but sleep all day. It's frustrating when one can't control one's emotions.

So am full of all this guilt and shame about my illness. I don't tell people I am Bipolar. I keep it a dirty little secret. I don't know how I will explain to employers my thirteen year hiatus. I guess I will tell them that I  was writing during that time.

So I have alot of resentment toward  my parents because they didn't show me love during my childhood. I feel like I was robbed of a lot of things during my childhood that other people take for granted. I felt so ashamed of my illness and I felt alot of anger about being dealt the hand of cards I was dealt. I felt alot of anger towards God for creating me because He created me imperfect. I resent rich and successful people who don't have to worry about money. I let that resentment manifest itself in ways that made me feel even more guilty.

I just don't want to feel these thing anymore. I don't want to feel shame because of my illness. I have a brain disorder it's not my fault that I have had limitations. I don't have to hide my illness. I don't have to resent rich people. Although I don't know how to stop resenting them. My parents did the best they could I shouldn't fault them for their limitations. I got throug my manias alive and healthy I need to be thankful for that.I need to feel pround that I have stayed out of the hospital for nine years. I haven't killed myself which could have happened.

I just want to focus on the present and not kick myself about the past. I want to move on with my life and not dwell on things I couldn' t control .

My Volunteer Job

I got a volunteer job working at Goodwill. It was 2-6 Monday through Friday then eventually Monday,Wednesday, and Fridays. I started there kind of scared of working because it had been so long ; almost 13 years since I had worked at a job. The job was pretty simple; keep the place clean and put away clothes. I had a hard time at first even though it was just part -time. It got easier as time went on. Some days I would be very depressed but I forced myself to go to work. This instilled some discipline in me and I felt better as soon as I got to work.

One girl didn't like me very much I thought. She seemed to be eager for me to leave when my shift ended. I just ignored it. I tried to be friendly to everyone. It was difficult for me to be out of myself. I had difficulty at first but things came easier to me as time went on. The way the employees were treated by mangagement concerned me, though. I felt like they were being treated like objects instead of employees.

The person from Vocational Rehab suggested that I take care of my appearance better and try to work harder. I tried to take her advice and made a better effort at my appearance and tried to work harder at my job. I was discouraged when the manager made a comment that I wasn't working very hard. It made me angry because  number one, I am clinically depressed and number two I am heavily medicated. I am doing my best and I am not trying to look lazy.

I just get so tired of everyone thinking that I am lazy. I have  an illness. I am not lazy. I may move slowly but I do get the job done. I really took that remark to heart and it really made me angry. When I am depressed I am not happy. I am not a joyful, perky person. I don't have the ability to look energetic when I am depressed. I move slowly when I am depressed. I don't look happy when I am depressed. It's hard for me to overcome my negative thinking and be positive.

I just felt like they weren't going to hire me. They were just using me as free labor. I wasn't going to get a job there. I was having a bout of depression so I quit. It was really hard for me after that. I spent a month being depressed. I felt like a failure. I felt like I couldn't get a job. I felt like I was going to end up homeless and sick and totally lost. It was really hard.

I didn't know why I was depressed. I was taking my medication. I tried to be more  disciplined with my pills. I didn't want any excuses. I feel like I did my best and I learned some things about keeping a job. I learned that I needed to work through my depressions and not let it keep me from working. I learned that I needed to break the day down into pieces so that I can get through the day. I need to present my self positively and try to be out of myself and friendly to co-workers and customers.

I really want to get to the point where I am making my own money and can take care of myself. I want to be able to do that. I want to find a way to make money. Maybe that means writing for myself  That may mean getting a job and writing on the side. I don't know. I just want to survive and make it in this world.

Living with a sleep disorder

Growing up I always slept too much. I was never a morning person. I always function better at night. I always had trouble getting up in the morning. When I had my first depression at age 9 I was sleeping all of the time and having a hard time in school. My next depressive episode was at age 15 and it's a miracle I made it to school at all that year.

Sleep has always been a comfort, an escape for me growing up. I slept soundly and often while I was growing up. When I had my depressions I slept quite a bit. It was a way to deal with the despair I was feeling. I would just sleep. In 1989 I had my first severe depression that lasted about a year. I missed class at college and almost flunked out. I slept quite a bit during this period.

I am not a morning person. My mood is just bad in the morning. I don't wake up until after three in the aftternoon. When I was working it was hard going to work on time and making a productive morning. I just didn't operate very well in the morning. When I was depressed I was late to work alot and had a hard time producing while at work. I didn't get fired though.

Eight years ago after my last manic episode I noticed a change in my sleep habits while in the hospital .I couldn't sleep at night. It was scary because if I don't get enough sleep I could go manic. I thought that it was just a side effect of a long manic episode so I didn't feel concerned at the moment. A month after I left the hospital I felt anxious because I wasn't sleeping at night. I went to the emergency room a couple of times because I thought I was having a manic episode.

Then my sleep pattern changed and I slept during the day and stayed up at night. I would be totally drowsy during the day and want to stay in bed all day. It was very hard staying up at night because I was all alone and I didn't feel like doing much. I felt like my brain was re-wired and functioned differently after my manic episode.

So I couldn't work I couldn't stay awake during the day. I applied for disability in 2007 but was denied. That was so frustrating because I knew I couldn't get a job. I slept in the mornings usually or stayed in bed all day until 3 o'clock in the afternoon. It was like that for years. I couldn't sleep at night. I stayed awake all night and couldn't fall asleep. Some days I wouldn't get any sleep at all. On weekends when my husband wanted to do things it was hard because I was so tired during the day.

It's been hard dealing with my sleep patterns because they are so erratic. It's hard on me mentally because I don't feel like I have any comfort. I found great comfort in sleep. It anchored me emotionally. I felt like a normal person when I slept at night. I found respite from the despair of my depressions. I felt less anxiety. I could let go and stop worrying about things when I slept.

Not knowing when you are going to sleep is very hard on me mentally. I don't know when I will sleep next or how much sleep I will get. It always feels like too little. I always feel like I haven't slept enough. During the day I feel drowsy so I drink soda. I can't have alot of caffeine because of my medications. It's hard during the day.

I worked at Goodwill for six months volunteering. I worked in the afternoon. It was the perfect time of day for me because it was during the most productive time of day for me. I had a depressive episode  and quit the job because I couldn't work while I was depressed. All my other jobs have been like that. I would work at them for a while and then my mental illness would get in the way  and I would have to quit or change jobs. I couldn't go to school for the same reason I would be ok for a couple semesters and then I would get depressed and drop out.

What I have learned about being depressed is one has to force oneself to do things while depressed. Break tasks down into little pieces. I have to break the day down into manageable pieces to get through the day. Getting up and doing something is the last thing I want to do but it is what I need to do to feel better. I realised that skipping work when I was depressed wasn't the answer that I needed to go to work when I was depressed. Break the task down into pieces so I am not overwhelmed or discouraged by the task. A therapist I had said when eating an elephant do it in small bites.

My brain is re-wired somehow and I can't sleep alot. I need to make sure I sleep but when that is will be difficult to determine. Some days I don't get any sleep. Some days I sleep during the day. Some days I sleep in the mornings. I don't have a consistent sleep pattern It's difficult to feel secure when I don't know when I will be sleeping. I feel anxious when I don't get any sleep because I fear that I will go manic. After all these years I have a fear of going manic.

I hate being awake. Sleeping was my escape from reality. I would sleep and time would pass quickly and I would feel some comfort. Nowadays I only sleep as much as I need to and I hardly get any exra sleep. Being awake means facing reality. I don't like my reality right now. I am jobless and totally dependant on my husband. I don't want that anymore. I want my own job and money so that I can feel productive. I feel like a burden to my husband. I feel totally useless. I have anxieties about what would happen if my husband couldn't work I just feel like something horrible is about to happen. I am afraid of being homeless and totally sick. I don't like my reality so I try to escape with sleep.

I think like a depressed person even when I am not depressed. Sleep is still an escape for me even though I sleep alot less than I used to. When I am depressed I  can stay in bed all day and not get up until 4 pm. I was like this for the month of May. I quit my volunteering job because I couldn't work. I probably could have but I was tired of working for free and they weren't going to hire me. I just felt like they were taking advantage of me. They were dangling the idea of me working for them like a carrot and expected me to work there indefinately. It really made me angry and I was depressed anyway so I quit.

I have learned that if I want to sleep at night I can't take naps. This is hard because I get so drowsy during the day. Early evenings are especially hard because I tend to get tired after dinner. When I do nap during the day it's inevitable that I am up all night. A part of me hasn't accepted this even after eight years of this. I just want to blank out and escape the reality of my life. I want to sleep through my problems instead of facing them When I feel frustrated and bored I tend to try to sleep those feelings away. Working was good for me because I had to face reality and spend my day working.It wasn't the greates job in the world but it helped me to be disciplined. I need a schedule and discipline in my life.

It's hard to make someone understand why it is so difficult for me to sleep. My husband sleeps naturally and falls asleep with no problems even if he is worried about something. I can't sleep at night if I slept any time during the day. I found this out. So if I take nap I am resigned to the fact that I will be up all night. I need to take caffeine just to stay  awake during the day. I can't have alot of caffeine but just enough to keep me alert.

This has been very frustrating for me. I wasn't able to work for a long time. I need to be able to sleep at night so that I can have a job. The ideal job for me is writing because it adjusts to my schedule. It would be ideal if I could write a book or screenplay a couple times a year and make enough money to live on. I don't know how to become a writer but I will try. I need writing to feel productive . I need writing to feel good about myself in some ways.

Dealing with this crazy sleep schedule has been difficult. It has been hard on me mentally. It has forced me to deal with my problems and not try to escape using sleep. I need to face my reality and try to find a way to be productive.

Everybody loves mania

I have Bipolar Disorder or what is also called Manic Depression. I prefer the term Bipolar because it better describes my illness. I go through periods of severe depression and euphoric hypomania and mania. I spend most of my time on the depressive end of the spectrum At first I was misdiagnosed with depression. I was given an anti-depressant which triggered my first full-blown manic episode. I was hopsitalized and diagnosed with Manic Depression after that. The depressions that I feel are horrible. I am unable to function while clinically depressed. I am lethargic, hopeless, unable to concentrate, suicidal and isolative. My manias are the oppisite. I am euphoric, joyful, energetic, charming, confident, delusional and hypersexual. My hypomanias are where I feel really good and full of energy and confident that I can do anything.

Before  I was diagnosed I used to experience hypomania alot. I would feel spiritual, confident,joyful, happy, charming and full of verve. I was hypomanic for a year before my next depression which landed me in jail. Hypomania is like  being on speed. One doesn't sleep very much because one is full of energy. People like me while I am hypomanic. I'm the life of the party. I'm fun to be around . I am confident in my abilities. My brain works better when I am hypomanic. I'm alert and energetic. I'm the best person I could be while hypomanic. I am also exerting my sexuality overtly. I'm a flirt. I dress sexy. I want to have sex. I am attracted to porn and sexy movies.

In my manic state I am so joyful I cry. I know God. I am special and loved. I hear God's voice. I am obedient and do what He says even if that means taking all my clothes off in public. I will not go to hell. I am a force of nature to be reasoned with by mere mortals. Time disapears and I am swept up in visions and delusions. I will do what God says even if that means kill myself or someone else. I am watching myself go through this and I can't control my actions. I am terrified. I can't stop the storm, the hurricane of emotion. I don't know where this train will end up. It's really frightening.

These manic and hypomanic states my seem like a lot of fun to an outside observer but they are actually very scary. I have no control when I am in a manic or hypomanic state. I can't control my emotions or my body. I am very sexual during these states which can cause alot of guilt later on when my Christian side comes out. I can't stress enough how frightening these states are. In a hypomanic state I can shop-lift or do something elst illegal. My moral compass is broken. I say things out of a place that can be hurtful to another loved one. I can get extremely irritable and clash with people.

It doesn't help that people enjoy these states. When I attended church and was hypomanic I was a great disciple. I shared my faith and was joyful and "radical" . I was "fired-up" and just what the church leaders wanted in their membership. I attracted people with my joy and verve. People who are  hypomanic most of the time usually have a charisma about them. They do well in acting and entertainment.

People like mania and so do  I on some level. The lack of emotional control, however scares the heck out of me. I used to be temped to go off my meds just so I could be hypomanic for a while. I never did that but it did cross my mind. I would miss being hypomanic because people liked me. My husband fell in love with my hypomanic states. It was an aspect of me that was charming and fun. The down side of hypomania is the irritiblity and sexual feelings.

I'm not exactly having an entirely fun time while being hypomanic. It contradicts my Christian beliefs about being faithful to a husband and not stealing. It's a scary feeling to experience no self-control of one's actions and words. I have a false sense of confidence that could hurt my relationships. Saying what's on my mind and not necessarily caring what the other person thinks can wreak havoc on a close relationship.

Society encourages manic behaviour. We celebrate it. Look at Charlie Sheen or Robin Williams. We think this is funny. I sometimes act hypomanic just to get people to like me. People like gregarious people. They like friendly fun people. Being depressed is , well, depressing. Case-in-point "Debbie Downer" in SNL skits. I have often felt like her as a depressed individual. People don't like depressed people. It makes them feel uncomfortable and aware of their own shortcomings.

So do I try to please society and act hypomanic?  I can't do that. Being friendly and out of myself  is a challenge when I am depressed. Sometimes I can't control my depressions. I can't be fun and gregarious all of the time. I think being the real me is best. I like putting other people at ease when they see me. I like being liked. I think , though that my friends know that I am not always going to be happy and joyful and glad to see them .

It's a challenge since knowing that if I act a certain way I will get kudos from other people like my employers. Putting on a act though is not what  I want to do. I want my joy to be genuine and not a symptom of a mental illness. I can't always control that. I can't always be aware of my depressive states. I don't know if can always be "natural". I don't think that is possible especially when one has do deal with society. Society dictates how we behave. To keep my job I may have to put on an act that is not actually how I feel. Around friends and family I can be genuine. I like to feel that my friends and family love me for me not my manic and hypomanic states.

Thinking Depressed

I have spend most of my life struggling with Bipolar Depression. The first time I was depressed was when I was 9 years old. I remember not wanting to take a bath and wanting to stay in bed. My mom got angry with me and thought I was being lazy. My teacher made fun of me in class and had the other students laugh at me. It lasted about a month and then it went away. The next time I was depressed was when I was fifteen years old. I was extremely tired and couldn't understand math and chemistry class. I forced myself to go to school but I struggled with staying awake I slept alot and barely passed my classes. My mother didn't notice my depressed behaviour. Her philosophy is "no news is good news". She didn't know that I almost flunked out of school. My sister was having problems with her mental illness issues. It was a bad year. I got better the next year. I brought my grades up and graduated high school and got into college.

I didn't think much of my depressions. I thought I was just a loser. I had low self-esteem. I was glad to graduate and get into college. I was expecting to get a degree and start my career. I did alright my first year in college but in 1989 I had  a severe bout of depression. I was extremely tired and I had a hard time concentrating. I missed class and didn't go to final exams. I felt suicidal and so down. I felt like I was a failure as a Christian. I felt condemned by God. I got incompletes on my classes and almost lost my financial aid. I was sleeping alot and feeling like I wanted to die. Then the depression went away and I felt better after a year.

In 1990 I was hypomanic. I felt good and did well in my classes. I was a great "disciple" in my church and was "fruitful" with conversions. I felt great but the next year I got depressed again. I had to leave school. I was struggling with depression again. I dropped out of school and lived with my mother. I moved in to an apartment and got jobs. I couldn't keep the jobs because I would get depressed and stop going to work. I told a doctor about my depressions and he diagnosed it a slow thyroid and gave me medication for that. I got suicidal and set my apartment on fire. I got scared and left after the fire started. I called a friend who took me to the hospital. I confessed my crime and was arrested. I was severely depressed. I spend 3 weeks in jail. I told them I was depressed they gave me prozac. I was givien an anti-depressant when I got out of jail. The medication triggered a manic episode in me and I went to the hospital. I was thne diagnosed with Manic Depression.

I was put on Lithium which made me gain sixty pounds. I was so out of it for the first six months. I was living in my father's house .He lived with his girlfriend. It was a small one-bedroom house in a bad neighborhood. I was alone and trying to find a way to get a job. I worked with Vocational Rehab to find work .I lived in the house 2 years. I moved in with friends after I found a job. I was stable on my medication. I met my husband and we married in 1995.

For five years things went fine. I worked and was married. I did have a bad time in 1999 when I had a severe depression and manic episode thanks to a psychiatrist who didn't know what he was doing. I struggled to work but had to quit my job when I couldn't work a part-time schedule. My medication was causing me to have trouble working. I decided to quit rather than being fired. I figured I could get on disability. I applied to disabiltiy but was turned down. I applied again in 2002 and 2007 but was turned down. My depression was pretty bad during this time. I was on various medications but was put on lithium again in 2004. It was hard for me to function anymore. I had a hard time sleeping and slept during the day. In 2007 I left the church I had attended for 20 years. I lost contact with alot of people in the church. I felt isolated and alone. I became an atheist. I stopped enjoying life just merely existing. I stopped reading books which I used to love to do. I stopped talking to people and doing things socially. I was in a fog. I couldn't function. I couln't work. It was a tough 8 years. I became a different person.

Depression robs one of one's ability to see things clearly. Everything is skewed in an unfavorable light. It's like walking around with a cloud over one's head that is constantly raining. I lose perspective and feel defeated about life. I feel like I am cursed or condemned to lose everything I love. I feel like giving up. " I don't want to die ; I just don't want to live" from a song I used to listen to. It's just like that. I stopped living and merely existed; waiting for my inevitable death and destruction.

Not being able to sleep at night really affected me. I couldn't find comfort in sleep. I couldn't pass the time sleeping and taking myself away from the tedium of my thoughts. I felt extremely anxious and defeated. I felt like I was going to end up a widow and homeless and dead with no one to care about me. I had a hard time concentrating so reading books was very difficult. Enjoying little things like tea and coffee and meals was devoid of any pleasure. I didn't feel emotion or pleasure. I was flat-lined emotionally. Communication with my husband was sparse. I didn't have any sexual desire. I was waiting to die. I felt like a caged animal just pacing my apartment waiting for the inevitable.

Eight years is a long time to be crippled by depression. It permeates one's life. I was existing not living. I was not able to work during this time. We struggled to pay the bills. It was hard living paycheck to paycheck. We lost our house and our car. Life became a struggle. I was often suicidal but I didn't go to the hospital because we couldn't afford it. I made a commitment not to kill myself or go to the hospital after my manic episode in 2004. I kept trying to find comfort but there was none. I couldn't find pleasure or joy in life. I couldn't pray and find comfort. The only thing that helped was writing. I wrote and started this blog.

My depression is always with me. I think in certain patterns that reflect my depressive state. "What's the poin?" I ask myself alot. We are struggling to  stay in our apartment while we wait for unemployment. My husband has been out of work for six months. We are running out of our savings. The defeated attitude rears it's ugly heard. " You will end up homeless, in the hospital and dead" I hear my depressive voice tellling me. "Why bother?"  the voice asks me. You will fail. " You can't write, you are not good enough" , " Nobody cares"  "It's your fate to end uip homeless"  These thoughts are constantly in my mind.

Sleep is an issue that I have struggled with. I don't sleep very much .My mind is not able to find rest from the worries of the day. I deal with alot of anxiety. Thoughts go around and around in my head and I can't silence them with sleep. I sleep 4 hours a day , if I am lucky. As a depressed person I used sleep as an escape. I used to sleep all day and night just to get through the day. I miss the comfort I got from sleep. I need to find other ways to deal with stress and I usually find that in writing.

I think like I am depressed when I am not. I have thoughts run through my mind that hinder my ability to enjoy the day. When I am depressed I am not a person who looks happy. I am not a cheerful person. I look sad or anxious most of the time. I don't feel like acting happy to ease someone else's mind. Being depressed isn't popular. People avoid you. You aren't happy so people tend to ignore you. Sometimes I act happy just so I can be liked. People don't like depressed people. The negative thoughts that I used to think as a depressed person stay with me like burnt toast. It's hard to think positively especially now.

When I get up in the morning I am tempted to go back to bed and just lie there until I feel guilty for lying in bed all day. I am trying to overcome my depressed thinking. I try to do things during the day that give me comfort like writing and reading a book. I feel like I see a train coming and I am trying desperately to get off the tracks. It's hard but I think of the other hard times I have gone though and I think maybe I can get through this hard time.

Depression has robbed me of eight years of my life. I feel like I need to allow the scales to fall from my eyes and see that life isn't always predictable but one can overcome it. I feel that writing isn't just a hobby anymore ; it's my salvation. I feel like I can live my life. I have given myself permission to live my life and to enjoy it. I don't want to just exist anymore I want to participate in life and encourage my friends and family.

Time is viewed by a depressed person as an enemy. It's to be endured and not spent. I want to change my view of time. To spend my day not just endure it. To be productive in writing and a job. I used to
feel that I was running out of time. That I was going to die young like my sister. I don't know if that is true. I may not die like my sister. I don't have to sit around waiting to die. I can live each day and try to survive. Not just survive but live and overcome my weaknesses. I want to be present in my life not laying in bed all day waiting to die. I don't want to be hit by that train I want to get on it.

Found my faith after 5 years

I was a Christian from the time I was nine years old until my forties. I always found comfort in my relationship with God throughout my life. In 2007 I left the church I had been attending for 20 years and didn't go to another church. My love for God diminished over the year I was away from my church. I struggled with the idea of divine intelligence. How could a God who is perfect create and expect imperfect beings to follow him perfectly? I was burnt out on the works-oriented doctrine that my church tought. I had a hard time explaining to people in my church how having a mental illness meant that I couldn't always do the things I was expected as a disciple of Jesus. I had to take medication to stablilize my mental and emotional health. Leaders in the church told my sister who also struggled with mental illness not to take her medication. They said we should rely on God. They didn't trust pschology or psychiatry. It was very damaging to hear that. I insisted on taking my medicaion because I knew if I didn't I would end up in the hospital.

I kept hearing from leaders " you need to be a disciple" and deny yourself and make sure you are doing everying as a disciple. I tried but I  failed alot especially if I was clinically depressed. When I was manic I was the life of the party and totally able to do everything expected of me. Most of the time I struggled with Bipolar Depression. I had a hard time reading my Bible and sharing my faith. I would stay in bed during the day and hide from God and everyone else. I was angry at God for having Bipolar Disorder. I felt like a spiritual loser. I wasn't like very much by some members who couldn't understand my illness. When I was manic I was lifted up as a radical disciple. It really bothered me that this church rewarded a symptom of a mental illnes.

After I was diagnosed I was so full of guilt and self-loathing. I felt that I was a disppointment to God. I felt like it was impossible for me to be a good disciple. That made me angry because I knew I couldn't help being weak at times because of my illness. When I had my last manic episode I experienced powerful delusions of God talking to me, angels, and demons. I was totally broken from reality during a two week period in 2004. I was hypersexual and had fantasies and was in love with my male therapist. I thought we were married. It was very scary.
After I left the hospital I experienced severe depression. I was suicidal and completely depressed. I felt so guilty for the hypersexuality I felt . I felt as if I had cheated on my husband .I felt worthless as a wife and asked my husband for a divorce. We were struggling to keep our apartment and my husband lost two jobs in six months. I applied at school and got a student loan that I used to pay rent. I became severely depressed shortly after I started going to class and dropped out. My loan was added to my other student loan debt.

I prayed to God that I wouldn't have another manic episode after my episode in 1999. I was so sure God had answered my prayer. I was going to finish my degree and become a writer. I was so happy and then it happened again. I was so hurt and angry at God for not answereing my prayer. I was devestated by my depression after my manic episode. I gradually began to lose my love for God and Jesus. I stopped reading the Bible. I stopped praying because I felt it was a waste of time.

I began to read on the internet about sites that said Jesus didn't exist. I thouight about that. If I coudn't be perfect no matterwhat I didn then how can Jesus be perfect. I doubted that the Bible was the word of God. I doubted the Holy Spirit because when I was depressed I couldn't always feel His presence. My emotions were raw and vulnerable. I decided that God did not exist and that Jesus was just the figment of a bunch of men's imagination.

Over the next five years I missed praying and having a relationship with God. I had trouble with anxiety and fear. I felt like I was given over to the elements and exposed to every bad thing that could happend to me. I was very anxious. Over time I realized that the church I went to for twenty years didn't teach much about grace or the Holy Spirit. I studied those things out and realized that with grace and the Holy Spirit I could be a Christian. I renewed my faith in Jesus and God's perfect son sent to Earth to rid us of all our sin through his suffering on the Cross.

My anxiety disappeared and I felt more hopeful about my life. I realize that I need God in my life and that I need to have Him lead me in my life. I feel that I have to relearn things about God that I  was tought wrong or didn't know in the religious system of my former church. I am going to go to my mother's church so that I could encourage her in her life and help her out when I can. I am feeling new and rejuvinized.

Recovering

It was 2004 and I was happy. I was planning on going to school for another year and finishing my degree in English Writing. I was losing weight and felt good about myself. I don't remember if I was on medication or not. I don't believe I was. My husband had been out of work for a year and we couldn't afford health insurance. We lost the house and foreclosed. At the last minute my husband got a job at RTD as a bus driver. We moved out and into a duplex that was  owned by one of the members of our church. He was good enough to let us live there for 800 dollars a month for a two bedroom apartment. Since we had the foreclosure we had bad credit and couldn't find another place to live so we agreed to live there. We lived there for a year and a half before moving to Glendale where we live now.

The good feelings I was having intensified in June. I was seeing a counselor and started medication. I was taking Depakote and Wellbutrin. The Depakote wreaked havoc with my menstrual periods and the Wellbutrin gave me insomnia but I was stable; so I thought. I started to feel better and better and everything seemed to be going great. I started focusing on my counseler who was a young male in his thirties. We had good sessions. I felt good because finally I had  a sympathetic ear to my struggles with depression. I slowly began to have a delusion about my counselor. I thought we should be together and that it was God's will. I kept my thoughts to myself. The last week of June things got out of hand.

I had a delusion that I was married by God to my counselor. I began having sexual fantasies about a person who was invisible and was talking to me through my mind. I began hearing voices and thought that God was talking to me. I had the delusion that I was spiritually married to my counselor and that God was talking to me. I had a breakdown in the Brown Palace Hotel where I felt God was leading me to. I ended up in the hospital but was released that night. My poor husband had a scare where the police stormed the apartment believing that he had a gun because I had a delusion that he was going to kill himself. It scared him shitless. He told me later after I got out of the hospital. I felt so bad to have put him in that position.

I spent two weeks in the hospital. At first I was really delusional and had to be in lock down. I couldn't go to the bathroom and peed on the floor. I tried to escape and was caught so they locked me in a room for a couple of days. It was really bad. I was delusional and hypersexual and really combative. They gave me Lithium and Haldol the whole time I was there. Then they released me after a week. I was still sick, though. I was delusional again and my husband called the police again and I went into the hospital. I spent a total of two weeks in the hospital. I was discharged but I still was hearing voices. I didn't understand why they were releasing me. I was on Lithium, Haldol, and Resperdol.

I came home and was really scared because I was still hearing voices and seeing things. I stayed home and tried to stay safe. I didn't want to go back to the hospital. The Resperdol kicked in and the voices and hallucinations went away after a few days. After that I began to be very depressed. I wanted to die. I was suicidal but I didn't want to go to the hospital so I stayed in bed all day. I don't remember much of 2005 and 2006. I was so depressed. I layed in bed all day and stayed up at night. When I was in the hospital I couldn't sleep even with all the meds I had in my system. A couple of times I went to the ER because I thought I was having another manic attact because I couldn't sleep. I realized later that my biological clock had been altered and I stayed up mainly at night.

I sought treatment form a mental health center but they rejected me because I had been in the hospital. I was so frustrated about this. I found a private psychiatrist but she was expensive. We paid her fee so  I could get the medications I needed. She referred me to a center where they charged less money and I have been going there for the last seven years. I have been on Lithium and Haldol and medication for my thyroid.

The mental health system in the country is broken. It's almost impossible to get disability even if you need it. I applied three times and was rejected all three times. The last time I used a lawyer and was rejected. It's tough. Mental health centers are more concerned with liability than treating patients. If you have no money and no insurance you will go untreated and end up homeless if you have no family or friends to help you out or to stay with while you try to get help from the State. People fall through the cracks all the time.

It's been a real struggle living on one income. My husband has been under pressure since he is the sole breadwinner. He is now unemployed and we are living on savings. I am working with Vocational Rehabilitation to find a job. I feel better now and I think I can hold down at least a part time job.My husband is under tremendous pressure as our money runs out for bills. We have no health insurance so my medication costs more. I need to be on my medication no matter what. I can't afford to be in the hospital at all.

I had two goals the last eight years. Stay alive and stay out of the hospital. We had to file bankruptcy so we couldn't pay a big medical bill. I have learned to cope with my depression but honestly I couldn't hold down a job even if I wanted to. The medications I take keep me out of the hospital but they don't take away the symptoms completely. I still have bad days but I think I can be consistent enough to hold down a job. I might have to work at night because I just don't sleep at night. Holding down a day job would be a challenge. I need regular sleep to keep from going manic.

Back in 1993 I was newly diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. I didn't have a place to live or a job. My father let me live in one of his rentals for free. I was getting used to my medication and having depressions. I was on food stamps and trying to learn to work and keep a job. I feel like I am right back in that situation again. I feel like I am in survival mode. I need to stand up for myself and make sure I get the help I need to find a job. I need to work on my writing and try to teach myself a skill. It's really hard right now. With both me and my husband out of work in such a bad economy one's worst fears get's a hold of one. I hope to be working by October and I hope my husband will be working too. I want to stay positive and hopeful. I got through 1993 and  I can get through 2012 too.

Losing Faith

From the cradle I believed in God. I went to Sunday school and church all my life. The first time my faith in God gave me true comfort was at the age of nine. I was lonely I didn't have any friends I was by myself alot. Praying was a comfort for me. I prayed alot. I got into the habit of praying incessantly. I thought about God constantly. I desperately wanted to be baptized although I was in a Presbyterian church that didn't preach baptism for salvation. I read the Bible cover to cover when I was twelve years old. I loved Jesus. He was my best friend.

As I grew into my teens I became more and more involved with God. We switched membership to a Baptist church. My mother felt that I should have friendships with Black kids. She also felt like I needed to be involved in a youth program There was one at the Presbyterian church but she felt it was inadequate. She had other reasons but I don't remember them right now. As a teen I learned about baptism and wanted to be baptized but I was a little embarrassed to ask. I read my Bible and found comfort in my faith. I didn't have any friends even though I was involved in the youth group. My interests in music and books was labeled "white" and I couldn't relate to the kids in the youth group. This drove me to have an intense desire to have a relationship with God especially Jesus.

I was in love with Jesus. I wanted to be like Him. I wanted a genuine relationship with Him. My senior year in high school we went back to the Presbyterian Church. I don't recall why. People at the Baptist church gossipped alot and were difficult. My mother sensed that I didn't fit in at the youth group.I didn't fit in with the Presbyterian youth group either because I had been away for four years and didn't have friendships with the kids who were ready to go to college. This lack of fitting in intensified my desire to be close to God.

My relationship with my parents was estranged during my teen years. I didn't feel that they loved me. I felt like a burden to them. I felt like I was a disappointment to my father. I think this contributed to my desire to find acceptance from God. I wanted to be baptized but I didn't know where to go or who to ask. I wanted to obey the Bible and have an authentic relationship with God. When I got to college my sister asked me if I wanted to visit her church. I went and was impressed. I liked the singing and fellowship and the sermon and they believed in baptism. I went to a campus Bible talk and was further impressed with the teaching and the enthusiasm of the members.

I thought I had found the perfect place to be as a Christian. I studied the Bible and was baptised. I was ecstactic. I was happy and content. I loved the church, the people, and the teaching. I was fiercely loyal to the fellowship and wanted nothing more than to be an active member.

I started struggling with depression and couldn't understand why I wasn't happy any more. I continued to get worse and became suicidal. After I burned my apartment down in a suicide attempt I felt far from God. I felt like a spiritual loser. I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. This confused me. How can I please God anymore? I can't always be joyful. I have to take medication to stay emotionally stable. I didn't understand about God's grace. Grace wasn't taught at my church. It was a works-oriented doctrine where one needed to attain perfection on one's own to prove acceptance from God. People failed to understand my struggles. The didn't understand why I had to take medication and not just rely on God for my emotional health.

After twenty years I questioned my involvement with my church. The doctrine being taught was unforgiving and incompatible with my struggles as a person with a mental illness. I felt constant guilt,shame,condemnation,dread,and unhappiness because I couldn't please God the way I was taught. The last manic episode I had was esepcially intense. I had delusions that were scary and powerful and full of things that I couldn't understand.

I felt that for my mental health to recover I needed to leave my church. I still had faith in God. I still wanted to please Him. I felt like God was like my father in that I disappoined Him and couldn't please him. The more I read the Bible on my own the less love I felt for God. I lost my love for God over the year after I left the church. The main question was why would a perfect God create imperfect beings and expect them to behave perfectly all the time with no grace?

Arguements that Jesus never existed and that God doesn't exist piqued my interest. After reading on the internet and interacting with former members of my church my faith in God slipped away. I lost my faith after a year out of the church I was attending. The energy I spent following God was so intense I believe I became spiritually exhausted. I was burned out. I couldn't maintain my faith anymore. I didn't have any energy to support it anymore. I greived over this decision. I was so depressed I could barely function. I spent a year in bed. I was full of anxiety and fear. I dreamed about demons and hell. I thought I was going to be punished because I didn't believe in God anymore.

I don't fully undestand why  I lost my faith. I feel like I lost it rather than deciding because the love and affection I had for God was gone. I just didn't love God anymore. I didn't believe in Him anymore. That was sad but I feel I lost my faith to retain my sanity. I couldn't be sane and a Christian at the same time. I couldn't support my faith anymore without letting go of my sanity. I have been delusional and insane and it's the scariest thing I have ever experienced. I couldn't give up my sanity.

I'm open to believing in God again but righ now I do not. Maybe over time I will heal enough to believe in God but I doubt it will be the God of the Bible. I still belive in spirits and ghosts and maybe even angels. I believe people have a soul and a spirit. The spirit dies with them but the soul lives on to inhabit another being. I don't consider myself Hindu or Buddhist. I like meat too much.

Take Clinical Depression Seriously

My experience with clinical depression has taught me to take it seriously. I wish other people would also take clinical depression seriously. Clinical depression is not just the blues or feeling lazy.It's a serious and debilitating condition that can lead to suicide.My first encounter with clinical depression was when I was nine years old. I felt sad and I didn't want to get out of bed.I couldn't wash myself. School was really hard. It lasted about a month. My mother thought I was being rebellious. My teacher thought I was acting up. I hear how children and teens commit suicide and it's a surprise to the parents. If they paid attention to the symptoms I don't think they would have been surprised.

The next time I was clinically depressed was when I was fifteen years old. I don't know how I made myself go to school. I did every day but it was hard. I couldn't think clearly or make decisions. I was clueless in math and chemistry class. Other kids just thought I was stupid. My handwriting was really bad. I had a hard time concentrating. I don't recall being suicidal. My sister was becoming ill with Schizo-affective Bipolar Disorder so my mother was really distracted. I got D's in all my classes and nearly flunked out of school. My mother doesn't recall this. It goes to show how clueless parents can be of their children. Depression is sneaky. It can look like other things. It's important to communicate with your children and notice any changes in behavior or grades.

I was in college the next time I was clinically depressed. It was in 1989 and I was going to the University of Colorado at Boulder. I couldn't stay awake in class. That was the first thing then I couldn't stay awake at all. I just wanted to stay in bed. I began missing class. I couldn't function. It was like my brain stopped working. I couldn't concentrate. I couldn't move out of bed . I felt incredibly sad and hurt for no reason at all. I felt hopeless and I hated myself. I felt like a disappointment to God. I felt in sin all of the time. I couldn't move. I was totally debilitated. I stayed home from my finals and got incompletes on all my classes. This lasted about six months. I got suicidal and tried to commit suicide with pills. I saw a counselor but she was useless. The next year I felt better.

In 1991 I got depressed again. I got suicidal and dropped out of school. I moved to denver and got my own apartment. I got a job doing surveys over the phone. I saw a doctor who said the depression was caused by low thyroid. He prescribed pills for my low thyroid. I got worse. I got suicidal. I tried to commit suicide by burning down my apartment. I was arrested for Arson. I went to jail. I was evaluated by the jail for mental illness. I was sentenced to 2 years deferred sentence. After two years my record would be cleared. I  was given an anti-depressant after I got out of jail. This triggered a manic episode and I was in the hospital for a day. I was correctly diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder after that.

I didn't want to go on disability like my sister so I enrolled in a program that would get me back to work.I got a job at the Denver Post doing data entry. I moved out of my falther's house and worked steady until 2000. I still struggled with depression especially when I was on medications that didn't work. Lithium seems to work best I have been on that medication the most.

When I tell people I am depressed they seem to think I am talking about my mood. Mood is only part of this condition. When I am depressed I can't work. I can't function. It's totally debilitating. It's not that I don't feel like working or going to school. I can't. My brain ceases to function. I can't concentrate. I don't know how to express the despair I feel. I remember being so depressed in 1989 that I wondered the Boulder campus screaming at the top of my lungs. It's that painful.

I tried 3 times to get disability. I was turned down. The judge would say things like I can't work my former job but I can get another job. I was so discouraged. The judge said that I was stable on my meds because I didn't go to the hospital. I was suicidal but I didn't go to the hospital because we couldn't afford it. I was staying home to avoid medical bills. If I went to the hospital every time I was suicidal we would have had too many hospital bills. I was really frustrated. In 2003 I tried to to keep a job. It lasted a week. I was so exhausted. I couldn't do the job. It was customer service from home. Really easy. I couldn't do it. It was too hard.

I have spent most of my time during the day in bed. I stay up all night and have a hard time sleeping. It's hard trying to find a job when I sleep during the day. I tried staying awake all day. I still stay awake during the night. I can't seem to sleep at night. I go to bed at around 4 am. I sleep for a couple hours and am up in the morning. I get tired in the afternoon and take a nap. I have had this problem since 2006. I don't know how to fix it. I am trying to fix it on my own but it is difficult. I still have days when I can't function. I don't know how I am going to get a job but I have to try since my husband is out of work.

The thing about depression is that it is so insidious. It can lead to suicide and often does. I have learned to handle my suicidal feelings until they go away. A person who isn't used to this may not understand that the feelings go away and may commit suicide. It's important to pay attention to your children or relatives if they are sleeping alot and talking suicide. Take them seriously don't just treat it as a mood swing.It may save their life.

Inside Depression

My first experience with clinical depression happened when I was nine years old. I had no idea what it was or what was wrong with me. I felt so bogged down. I just wanted to sleep. I felt sad and lonely. My mother thought I was being rebellious because I wouldn't take baths. It lasted about a month and then I was back to normal. I found it hard to concentrate at school. My teacher made fun of me. After about a month it went away until I turned fifteen. I was depressed the entire year. I almost had to repeat the year in school. I didn't have to for some reason. I remember having trouble with math and chemistry classe. I made it to school on time but I had a hard time concentrating. Again, I had no idea that it was clinical depression. I figured it out later after I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder.

I didn't have another depressive episode until 1989 when I was in college. I was 21 years old then. I had several incomplete classes and had to take some over in summer school. I remember being very lethargic and slow and wanting to sleep. I couldn't get enough sleep. I would sleep in classe. I had a hard time concentrating. I was extremely sad and felt like a failure. I couldn't think very fast. I remember feeling such emotional pain that one night I wandered the campus screaming in agony. I tried killing myself with pills. I was extremely suicidal. I was involved in a campus ministry at the time. I studied with a girl and she and her sister became Christians. Then I studied with another girl who left the church with the first girl I studied. I felt so guilty that this happened that I locked myself in my dorm room for three days. I was so depressed. Then it went away and all through 1990 I felt good.I got depressed again in 1991. When I saw a doctor he diagnosed me with hypothyroid and gave me some pills for my thyroid. I continued to get depressed and became suicidal.

In 1992 I was suicidal and left school. I moved in to my own apartment after getting a job downtown. I got so suicidal that I set my apartment on fire thinking I would die in the fire. I got scared after setting my daybed on fire and left the apartment. I called a friend who took me to the hospital. I was arrested at the hospital for Arson. I spent two weeks in jail. I eventually got two years probation after which my record would be expunged. This was the lowest time in my life. I felt like such a failure. I was given prozac in jail. After I left jail I was diagnosed with unipolar depression. I was given an antidepressant. I had a bad reaction to the medicine and had a drug-induced manic episode. I was hospitalized over night and sent home the next day with the correct diagnosis bipolar disorder.

I had no home so I lived in my Dad's rented house. It was empty since he was living with his girlfriend. The nex three years were rough. I was trying to get back to work and learn about my illness.I was put on lithium which worked well except I couldn't drink caffeine for some reason. I was on lithium for 5 years. For some reason I don't remember I was put on tagertol which didn't work, lamictal which didn't work, Depakote which worked but made my periods irregular and Wellbutrin which gave me insomnia. My health insurance changed alot and I didn't always have the same psychiatrist. I went back on lithium after my most recent manic episode and have been on lithium for 8 years.

I have dealt with severe depression most of my life. It's hard to explain how debilitating it is. It's very difficult for me to be positive and stress of any kind can trigger it. I don't realize I have been depressed until I am out of it. While I am depressed my view of reality is skewed. I expect my worse fears to actually happen. It's easy for me to have alot of anxiety at times. Right now my husband is out of work and we don't have much money. I am having a hard time being positive right now about my husband finding a job in time. The economy is still bad and he hasn't had much luck. His brother sent us some money and I hope his mother will give us some money when we ask her. I am looking for work but I have to start sleeping at night. I don't know if I can change my sleep patterns I will try so I can get back to work. I am going to sign up with a state program that helps people with disbilities find work. I have been out of work for 12 years and I can't find work because I have been unemployed so long.

Clinical depression is dangerous because if gone untreated it can lead to suicide. I know that my brother was clinically depressed and that is why he committed suicide when he was in prison. I feel that going through that experience kept me from actually making alot of suicide attempts except the two I mentioned. I saw how his death devistated my mother and sisters. Some days I feel suicidal but I decide to live and face my problems. It's really hard right now because I'd rather be dead than homeless. I used to think how impossible it would be to lose a home but I have already lost one. I know it's possible so I am trying to hope for the best but prepare for the worst. It's really hard right now relying on the state which is overwhelmed with unemployed people. I wanted for my husband to keep his job until the economy improved but that's not what happened. I felt anger at him because he is angry for some reason and little things upset him and that's how he lost his job. I resent him for putting us in this situation. I haven't been in a situation like this for years.

Being clinically depressed is hard because it is difficult to think positive. I have a hard time believing that good things happen and we can avoid the bad things. I tend to believe if a bad thing happens to you once it can happen again. That's my experience. It makes for alot of anxiety which can lead to a panic attack. I had two of those so far. They are extremely unpleasant. I felt like I was dying and there was no way out. I can't explain the depths of despair I have felt while severely depressed. Psychological pain is worse than physical pain in that one doesn't see an end to the suffering. That's why suicide looks so good to a depressed person. I have had to make a decision ahead of time to live each day. Some days are harder than others. I have to force myself to think of loved ones and how they would react to my death. I have to tell myself that the pain I feel isn't permenant and that I will feel better. That can be almost impossible for me to do at times.

This year is turning out to be challenging. I am forced to face my fears and try to get through hard times. It's hard for me to be positive right now but I am trying. Hopefully I will be working again eventually and this will help me to be more positive and encouraged.

Inside Mania

The last time I felt normal was when I was 18 and in my senior year of high school. Since then it's been a series of depressions, mania, and hypomania. Depression is a state that impairs me the most. I can't function when I am severely depressed. It's like walking through a sea of molasses. I can't think very fast. I am sad,overwhelmed,unable to do simple tasks like take a shower, get out of bed. It's very debilitating. In contrast hypomania and mania are very different. In hypomania I am energetic,irritable,joyful,euphoric,high strung and extremely impulsive. I like to spend money or shoplift if I don't have any money. I'm out of control emotionally and hypersexual. Mania is more pronounced euphoria along with delusions and a loss of reality. I am also extremely sexual.

I have been manic in 1993, 2000, and 2004.I have been manic other times where I didn't need to be in the hospital. I was hospitalized in 2004 for mania for two weeks. Other times I have been hypomanic. The longest period of hypomania I had was in 1990 for a year. I have had short periods of hypomania since then. When I am not depressed or manic I am emotionally flatlined. I am emotionally neutral. I have a hard time enjoying things in this state. I do not feel deep emotions. Feeling this way is very difficult because I don't have any way of enjoying my life. I feel that I am merely existing. Sometimes I think of suicide in this state although I am not depressed.

People look at mania and think it's a good thing because of the positive emotions. Yes I feel good but my impulse control is turned off. Things that are illegal or immoral are not out of reach for me. I could shoplift or cheat on my husband. I have not control over what I do or say to people. I think I am a wonderful person and superior to others so I say things I don't mean. I am driving a car that is out of control. I have not idea where the car is going. I have no control. I could kill myself or others by the delusions I have. I got really angry at one of my therapists because she said when I was hypomanic that I was having fun anyway. She doesn't realize the fear factor in even hypomania. I have no control. I can't resist spending money I don't have or saying things I don't mean It's very scary.

Having mania is a terrifying experience. The delusions I have feel real. I don't think I'm delusional so my sense of reality is skewed. I feel like I am possessed by another entity. I hear voices that tell me to do things. I feel that I have to do what the voices tell me or I will die. I can't control my own body. I must obey the voices. I can't help myself. I have to do what they say. The thing about mania is that it can alter your brain. After the manic episode in 2004 I was unable to sleep at night. I couldn't sleep at night in the hospital. When I got home I tried to sleep at night but couldn't. I haven't been able to sleep at night since then. I was put on Lithium after that and that's when I experienced the emotional flatline experience.

Manic people are fun to be around. They are likeable and energetic. They can be easily irritated or annoyed. They have lots of energy and have high self-esteem. They are very productive and get very little sleep. When I was manic I was the life of the party. But I had poor impulse control. That's the scary part of being manic. I could do something illegal because the law didn't apply to me. I could act out my sexuality and cheat on my husband. (I didn't) I can't help myself when I am manic. I can't control the strong emotions I feel. I am out of control. I can't express how scary that is. To be out of control and unable to resist my emotions.

That is why I make sure I take my medications. I don't want to be manic. I wan't to live. I don't want to get in a situation where I jump off a building or am killed by police because I was manic.I don't want to be hypomanic either. I have been hypomanic when I lose track of my medication. I don't want to go to jail for shoplifting or doing something illegal. My illness is serious because I could kill myself in a depression or mania. I wish people would understand how I have to make the decision to live each day with my illness.

School Daze II

I was watching Akeelah And The Bee a while back when memories of my school experience came flooding back. In the film Akeelah was bullied at first and then she became popular when she won the national spelling bee. My school experience was exactly the opposite. I was made fun of and bullied in grade school. I was very shy and introverted as a result. I went to school everyday however because I loved learning and reading. I would ignore the taunting and bullying and go to school and try to focus on learning new things.

When I was in 5th grade I was subjected to extreme bullying and taunting. I was accused of spreading a rumor about a "dating" couple and everone at school hated me. I didn't think about killiing myself because of what had happened to my older brother. He killed himself in prison in 1976 when I was six years old. I went to school everyday and focused on learning and reading. In sixth grade I was also severely taunted and bullied. It really puzzled me that the teacher did nothing to stop the taunting and bullying. My biggest fear was that I would get beat up at school. Luckily that never happened. I did worry that it would however.

Akeelah had a big brother in the film who supported and loved her. It made me wonder how I would have been had my brother lived. I would have had a big brother who loved and supported me. I would have been a more confident person. I really missed my brother growing up. He was 19 when he died. I wasn't very close to him as his little sister. I was mainly an annoyance. I think he loved me but didn't show it very much.

My mother was clueless about my daily trials at school. I didn't tell her about the taunting and the bullying. I just endured it. I didn't try to fight it. I just tried to ignore it. Most of the time I would spend alot of time at the local library. I would get lost in books. It was my only refuge. I read alot. I would also go to movies by myself. I really enjoyed those movies. My dad gave me an allowance and I always spent the money on books and going to movies.

I had a very low self-esteem and image. I hated myself. I didn't get bullied in Jr. High or High School but I was very introverted. I didn't have any friends. I continued to lose myself in books and school work and movies and tv. I internalized alot of the taunting and bullying I went through in grade school. I really didn't like myself. I knew I couldn't be popular. I couldn't afford nice clothes. I didn't have a car so I never went out.

When I joined the church I was love bombed. It overwhelmed me. I couldn't believe people actually liked me and wanted to spend time with me. I was fiercely loyal to the church for twenty years because of the relationships I had. I couldn't bear to be lonely again the way I was when I was in school. I think that's why I endured the spiritual and emotional abuse within the church for so long. I wanted to please these people. I wanted to be spiritual and evangelistic and fruitful by converting alot of people. Leaving the church was hard but I had to to save my sanity.

Not working I spend alot of time alone. It's hard. It makes me think of all that time I spent alone growing up. I really hate being alone. I need social interaction on some level. I miss the social events at my church and being busy doing things that involved being around people. I really appreciate social media because it helps me connect with people if only on a superficial level.
I really appreciate the time I spend on social media. It doesn't compare with the real thing however.

The only time I felt good about myself was when I was manic or hypomanic. These feelings go away and give way to depression however. When I feel good about myself other people's opinion of me doesn't matter. I don't feel that I need to please anyone anymore. I finally feel that I like myself and who I am . That didn't really happen until I left the church I was in.

School was 25 years ago. I can't believe it's been that long. I sometimes feel as if it was yesterday. I really am glad those days are over. I need to see how my love for learning and reading saved me from getting really depressed during those days. I could have killed myself or dropped out. I persevered because I wanted an education.

I guess that's why it really hurt me when I couldn't finish college. I tried really hard to stay in school and get a degree but my illness made that impossible. It really hurts that I couldn't finish school. I felt useless and a failure for so long after dropping out. I tried to finish later on but my illness got in the way again and I couldn' finish classes so I dropped out again. I really felt like I had wasted alot of money for nothing.


My school experience and church experience molded my personality and made me who I am today. I wish teenagers would realize that school is a temporary experience and doesn't reflect the real world. It's an experience and then you go into the real world and you can learn to like yourself.

What have I been doing for the last eleven years

I really need to change how I think about myself. When I quit my job I felt so useless. I couldn't work. I was really discouraged. I thought that if I couldn't work I could at least finish my degree. I went to school for a year. I tried really hard but it was impossible for me to go to school full time because of my illness. I would get depressed and would be unable to finish classes. I really got discouraged then. It was hard. I wanted to be productive. I wanted to feel the kind of satisfaction I got from working. I was contributing to the household. I was trying to work on a career. I wanted to be a customer service supervisor one day. The company I worked for was really good. I felt good about myself. My illness however was hard to control. I went to work depressed and didn't do very well. It was hard sometimes to go to work but I felt like I had to because we couldn't live on one income. I felt that at least I could get on disabilty. When that fell through I felt angry. I felt like I was being laughed at by the state government. That I was lying about my disability. I really couldn't work. I tried to work from home. It was impossible. I felt like I was not taken seriously by the judge. It was very frustrating. We had to file bankruptsy to get rid of debt from the house we lost. It was just hard to feel good about myself. I felt useless and a burdent. I felt bad because my husband was facing alot of pressure to get a job and support us. I felt like I had failed in life. It was hard. I had to understand that I was in recovery from my illness and that I needed time to get back to being productive.

For a while I gave up and just existed in time. I didn't try to do anything. I just layed in bed and waited to die. I felt so alone and depressed. It was hard explaining to people what I did all day. I would feel ashamed of myself like I had done something wrong.I felt so ashamed of myself. I hated myself. I used to enjoy reading and writing but I stopped. It was so hard to do those things because it took so much effort and attention. After my manic episode in July of 2004 I felt like a different person. I felt like my brain had been rewired. I couldn't sleep at night. I couldn't read for long periods of time. I felt extremely depressed. I felt like the color had seeped out of my life. I felt useless and a burden to my husband. It was a really hard and long period of depression for me. I had to come to grips with my disability. I had to see that even though I couldn't prove to a judge that I was disabled the fact remained that I was disabled and couldn't go to work or to school. I had to forgive myself for being unable to do things like write and read books. I just couldn't understand what was wrong with me. I felt so badly about myself.

I just felt like I was wasting time. I was just squandering each day. I coudn't be productive I couldn't work and that made me feel sad and unwanted. I just felt like I was occupying space and not doing my fair share. I felt guilty for watching television and movies. I felt like I was wasting time. I felt like each day was a chore. Not sleeping at night made me feel even more lonely because I couldn't talk to anyone. I used to find comfort in sleep. I used to sleep deeply but now I do not. I'm a lighter sleeper. I don't sleep that much anymore. It's hard living with the limitations of my illness. I often would feel guilty because I couldn't work or volunteer. I tried volunteering but I wasn't always feeling good enough to go on a consistent basis. I felt like a huge failure. I didn't like myself. I felt stupid and lazy. I felt guilty for sleeping during the day. It was hard to get up and take a shower. I felt so alone and useless.

I haven't had a purpose in my life. When I was a Christian my purpose was getting close to God and converting people to God. That was my purpose. Not having a purpose is hard because I don't have a reason to get out of bed. I don't have a job so I don't have a reason to get dressed and get out of the house. We have a tight budget so I can't spend alot of money going out to lunch or getting coffee every day.I feel like I had to mourn the loss of my faith and church. I felt like I needed to rethink how I thought about myself. I think of Emily Dickenson who wrote poetry for her own fulfillment and didn't get any recognition for her writing until after she died. Noone knew of her talents while she was living. She lived her life and died without any acknowlegement of her writing. She wrote for herself. She did it because it gave her fulfillment. She didn't earn a penny. She was totally dependant on her father for her livelihood. I need to find something to do that gives me fulfillment too.

I have had a really hard time accepting the limitations of my illness. It's been a challenge to keep from hating myself because of my limitations. I need to be more patient with myself and realize that I can do things but just not at the pace I used to. I'm really hard on myself. I have a hard time understanding that I can't control my illness. All I can do is take medication and live around the habits of my illness. I am really bad at forgiving myself. I feel so harsh towards myself sometimes.

When I was living in my dad's house I didn't have a television. He offered to buy one for me but I told him no. I felt like if I had a tv he would think that I was watching it all day. I felt like tv was a waste of time. I felt like writing or drawing or reading a book was a better use of my time. I guess that's why I don't watch as much tv during the day. I want to feel productive. I do find myself watching tv in the morning. I like watching the news shows. By one o'clock I feel sleepy and go to bed. My husband comes home in the afternoon. We watch tv and I make dinner. Then we watch a movie and he goes to bed. I stay up watcing tv and then I get on the computer late at night. I've been avoiding reading for some reason. I just feel like reading is harder for me now than in the past. That made me feel a little stupid. I felt like I needed to read alot more than I have been. The last book I read was Joyluck Club by Amy Tan. It was a book club selection. It was a book that I had read before. I enjoyed it but it was a challenge to read it within a month. I want to read The Lacuna by Barbara Kingsolver. I want to take the month to read it. I don't want to rush myself. There are other books I want to read but I get overwhelmed when I think about reading them. I have alot of unread books that I haven't read. I feel guilty for not reading. I feel like I need to be patient with myself and read at a slower pace than what I used to read. A guy from high school said he could read 100 pages an hour. That just sticks in my brain and I feel as if I don't read 100 pages an hour and a book a week there must be something wrong with me. I know now that that is silly. I need to read as fast or slowly and I want to in order to enjoy the book.

Since my manic episode I have felt like a different person. I have not felt comfortable with myself for a long time. I didn't understand what was going on and why I felt so different. It's as if my personality changed. I really feel like my brain underwent a change. I can't prove it but it feels like it.I have just had it with the self-hatred and self-condemnation. I just don't have the energy to do this anymore. I also feel alot of anxiey about the future. I worry that something will happen to my husband and he will be unable to support us. I worry about my elderly mother and how she gets along. I worry that I will have a stroke or heart attack or get cancer and have medical bills that I can't pay. Anything can happen and usually does. It's hard not to worry about what could happen. I just want to focus on what actually is happening in my life and not worry about what could happen. It's hard to do that especially since I hve alot time on my hands. I think alot about what could happen and it worries me. I just think about what the Bible says about worry that you can't add an hour to your life by worrying. Something to remember.

I used to feel suicidal every day for years. I had to decide to live everyday for a while. It was hard just not trying to kill myself. I wish people would understand that. Having a mental illness is hard. It's difficult because of the suffering people go through. I didn't understand that myself until my sister died. I realized that she was fighting to live a normal life and it was really hard for her to do that. She struggled really hard to live each day as a happy person. I can't always be happy but I can be content. I can't always do things but I can try to do something. It's really hard for my pride to realize my weaknesses. I have never forgiven myself for not finishing school. It's really hard for me to come to grips with the fact that I couldn't finish school. I feel extremely guilty for not working for so long. I realize now that when I tried to work I couldn't do it. It was hard realizing that.

I'm at the poing in my life where I am ready to forgive myself for my weaknesses. It's hard but I am trying. I just don't have the energy to condemn myself anymore. Maybe in the long run I will be able to work again. I don't know how but I will try. Until then I will take pleasure in doing things for myself and not because of a feeling of guilt that I need to be productive. I'm ready to enjoy each day and take my struggles as they come. I hope I won't need to experience my worst fears but I have already done that and I have survived.

Thinking about Dad

My dad and mom got a divorce when I was three years old. I saw my dad on weekends until I was about 12 years old. I don't remember when my parents were married. I just remember going to Dad's house and spending the night. He would take us skating or to eat somewhere. I remember eating so much that I threw up in my sleep. We didn't have much food at my mother's house. She was on welfare and got food stamps. We shopped at the local thrift store. In the summer we would go to Clarksville, Tennessee to visit relatives. I was always fighting with my cousin Ken. He was the same age as me.

My dad never hugged me. He never said one kind word to me that I believed. He would pay for stuff and help my mother hold on to the house but he never showed any affection for me. He had a hard time understanding me. I read alot and he just didn't understand why I read so many books.I got into the Bible and he didn't understand that either. He didn't try to understand me. Alot went unsaid between us for a long time. I didn't understand why we were living in poverty and he was buying and selling houses. I felt like a burden to him and what money he gave us he made sure we felt guilty for receiving it.

When I went to jail for burning my apartment in a suicide attempt I called him. He said I was a special person. I didn't believe him. I was so depressed. I was sure that I was going to do prison time but that didn't happen. I got two years probation with the case to be dismissed after two years. I had to file bankruptsy to avoid a law suit from the apartment complex's insurance company. My dad paid for the attourney and gave me a place to live for two years. I felt like he thought I was a disappointment. I dropped out of college and had to go on medication for bipolar disorder. I never felt his approval of my life. Even when I moved out of the house he let me live in rent free he never told me he was proud of me.

When the basement of the house where I was living in flooded he got mad at me because I forgot where the shut off valve to the pipes was. He had to buy a sump pump and pump out the water. He was livid. I was spacey from all the medication I was taking. He said something very hurtful . He said I had book learning but no common sense. Those words really hurt me and I never forgot them.

When my dad was dying of cancer I just told him I loved him. I didn't try to get him to apologize for that comment. I thought it was irrevelant. Watching him weaken and die filled me with compassion for him. He really felt guilty for my brother's suicide in prison. I don't know the details but he felt responsible some how. When he died I mourned the relationship we could have had together. I was hurt that he couldn't communicate his love for me and my siblings.

He died in 1994 and I am still feeling the sting of his words. He never believed in me or understood me. He never tried to understand me. He never tried to show his love for me. I think that's why I became religious. I wanted love from a heavenly father. I wanted to feel like I mattered to someone. I joined a cult because they love bombed me and made me feel wanted and loved. If my dad had tried a little harder to let me know he loved me I wouldn't have fallen for such a monumental waste of my time.

I finally realize that I can't keep blaming my dad for his inadequacies. He was unable to communicate for whatever reason. His indifference really hurt me but I can't change the past. I need to see that he did love me and that he was unable to show it most of the time. I wish I would have made him say he loved me. I wish I could have had more time to explain myself. Why I was a Christian , why I read so many books. I wish we could have reached a mutual understanding. He didn't understand my illness and the way it was affecting me. He didn't understand why I would forget something like where a shut off valve would be. What hurts is that he didn't try understand me or my illness. He never asked questions. I couldn't get him to talk to me. It was hard. I should have tried harder but I didn't realize that I was running out of time.

I've carried around in my heart alot of anger and hurt towards my dad. I need to let it go and realize that my dad's inability to love me wasn't my fault. I have to realize that he just couldn't communicate the way I wanted him to. I need to accept the relationship we did have and leave it at that. It's hard to do but I need to let go of all this anger and hurt. My dad worked hard at things but relationships he couldn't handle very well. Maybe he had a rough childhood and had a hard time in Korea and Vietnam. It's hard to tell. I just want to make sure that I am not like my dad and communicate to those I love.

More Random Thoughts

It's really hard trying to be positive during this time of economic crisis. I worry about my mother who is dependant on Social Security. I worry about my husband and his job. I worry about my neice who is in the Air Force who won't get a check if America defaults. Its very hard. This economy is so bad it could get worse. Restaurants and other businesses could close. I think about the local grocery store we go to. It's so convenient to have yet if it closed we'd have to take the bus again. I don't want to do that.A modern depression would suck big time. I don't think Congress understands how serious this is. We can't afford another depression. We need to get out of Iraq and Afganistan and take care of our own. We need to take care of the elderly, homeless and children. Our educational system is getting the shaft because we can't afford to pay for it. There's so much waste in government we need to get rid of it and take care of those who are weak.

I was shocked and saddened at what happened in Norway. I don't understand how such a nutball can grow in a country as benign as Norway. The horror this man caused just to make a point is terrifying. It reminded me of 9/11 and the bombing in Oklahoma. I just don't understand these fanatics who are bent on killing the innocent to make a point. I just don't comprehend it. It made me think about the existence of evil in people. People are going to be evil and do evil things and it's not going to make any sense. Evil people don't think they are doing evil. They justify it and try to defend their evil deeds. Hitler didn't think he was evil. Niether did Stalin. The insurgents who hanged an 8 year old boy didn't think they were evil. It boggles the mind. I've hurt people and at the time I didn't think I was doing anything wrong. I thought I was defending myself or taking care of myself. I felt like a victim so I justified it. Dr. Phil said that some people have a warrior gene that makes then especially agressive and violent. This kind of behavior must perpetuate because it ensures survival. I don't know how else to explain how people can be so evil.

This year has turned out to be a bad one for the economy. We need the government to come together and work toward the greater good. I am still hopeful that Congress will work out a plan and avert disaster. We need to tough it out for the next ten years and the government has got to learn to live within its means and cut waste.The government has to change the way it works. It's going to be hard but I think a balanced budget amendment is needed. I think we need the amendment as a form of self policing to get the government to live within it's means. We also need to reform the tax code so that it is fair.

I feel like as time goes on I lose things that used to give me pleasure. I used to sleep deeply and through the night. Now I takes naps during the day. I feel like I've been awake all the time. It's a frustrating feeling. I am diabetic so I can't have any sugar. I used to like smoothies and Starbucks and chocolate but no more. I can't enjoy reading the way I used to since my last manic episode. It's hard because reading books was such a comfort to me. I took pleasure in going to church to worship God but now I don't believe in God. It's really hard trying to be positive when the things that used to give me pleasure are out of reach.

I used to hate myself for having a sinful nature. I felt like I was crucifying Jesus all over again with my sins. I used to try so hard to stay sinless and faithful to God. It was excruciating. I couldn't always keep from sinning. I had to many weaknesses. I couldn't keep up with God's expectations. How was I supposed to keep joyful and thankful with this tightrope that I had to walk each day? It was impossible. I finally gave up. I couldn't stay sane and and a Christian at the same time. Something had to give. I thought being sane was more important that being a Christian.

I've been poor all my life. Life has been a struggle. I don't know why it is that people can suffer all their lives and other people have it easy. It's not fair. I guess that's why Communism developed. It was supposed to make it fair for everybody but that didn't happen. I'm used to going without and doing without things. I do miss working. I wish I had a part time job or something. It's hard because I don't sleep at the same time every day. I can't commit to a job right now. I don't see how volunteering would be any easier since I can't commit to a regular schedule. It's difficult living within my limitations.

If my diabetes gets worse we may not be able to afford the insulin. I don't want to be in that position so I will take care of myself and take my medication. I hate exercise but I will start today and go to the gym where we have a membership. Diabetes is a scary disease and I dread what it will do to my body. I try to do everything that I am supposed to do to manage my blood sugar but finances make it hard.

The Middle East is such a volatile place. We need to get out of there. We can't solve the problems that have been there for hundreds of years. I hope Obama gets re-elected so he can oversee the withdrawal of troops from that region. The hatred of us has just gotten worse over the years. I don't think being there any longer will fix anything. We can't play World Policman anymore we can't afford it. North Korea looks like our next problem anyway.

I don't know how much more I can take. The doctor said my cholesterol was very high and put me on a medication. I don't want to have a stroke or heart attack. I feel like this in inevitable because of my family history. I wish I could afford more medical treatment but it's out of the question. I wish the government would simply live within its means the way I have to. I just don't think it's in the cards for me to live past my 50th birthday.

I wish I could work so we didn't have to worry about money. We live paycheck to paycheck and can't keep a savings. We are barely living on one income. It's hard because one disaster to set us back and we would end up on the street. My anxiety about this is hard to live with. I worry all the time about money and having enough to cover our expenses. It's hard because I have so much time on my hands I just worry alot about our finances. I don't know what to do to get rid of this anxiety. I think I will always have this as long as I cannot contribute to our budget.

Life is a struggle and not always fair. If we default we will survive but what kind of nation will we be? I don't want to go there. I don't want to see the financial disaster that will happen. I don't want to end up on the street or see anyone I love end up there. It's really hard to get through this week without thinking about the worse case scenario. I just don't know how to get through this week except to take it one day at a time and hope for the best.

I'm thankful that my husband has been able to work and keep us off the streets but I need to find a way to make a living somehow so we can build a savings. I just can't stand the stress of living the way we have to because I haven't been able to work. I have to do something to change our financial situation. I will research writing and getting a part time job doing something I don't know .

Just expressing some random thoughts and feelings as we go through this stressful week. I really hope things work out and we can go forward. It's hard because I can't see the future. Even if I could see the future could I change it? I don't think so.

Thoughts in the night

As I sit here in the night a lot of thoughts go through my mind. I think about my life so far and the lessons I have learned. Having insomnia means I think alot. I can't talk to anyone and I hate chatting online. I just have myself to entertain. I think that it's hard because I think of unpleasant moments in my life and I try to make sense of them. I have regrets and mistakes in my life that I wonder what would have happened if I did things differently. Like quitting my job. I probably should have just taken some time off and gotten my medication straightened out. I think I would have done better to keep working. I just think that my manic episode that I had in 1999 changed my brain so I couldn't do the job I used to do. I felt so overwhelmed. My psychiatrist was a hack and couldn't be trusted. I had to get a different doctor.

Time goes so slowly in the night after midnight. I have so much time on my hands. I don't like to watch movies because I don't want to wear out our DVD player and I also feel like I am wasting time if I watch alot of movies. That doesn't make sense but that's how I feel. I like to read but my attention span isn't what it was since my last manic episode. I am convinced that my brain was altered during my last manic episode. I just don't feel like the same person. I find it more difficult to read for long periods of time. I can't sleep at night. I feel like something changed in my
brain. I am certain of it. I can't afford to prove it but I feel that is what happened. My manic episode was so severe that it took me years to recover from it. I am trying to adjust to my new normal but it's hard sometimes. Not being able to have a consistent sleep schedule prevents me from having a regular job which is what I need. I just feel stuck sometimes with my limitations.

I think I have come to terms with my new normal. It's been hard but I am dealing with it. I think having a chronic illness means dealing with your limitations and not feeling guilty about it. I watch my husband work so hard to keep us afloat. Sometimes he hates his job. I just wish I could make money so he wouldn't have to stay in a job he hates and have the freedom to find work he likes. In this economy we need him to keep working and quitting is not an option. I worry what would happen if he lost his job or died. I don't think we'd last very long. It's a scary thought.

I have a major regret in not being able to finish college. I owe twenty thousand in student loans but I never graduated. I feel totally guilty for this. I feel like I let my parents down and let myself down. I tried really hard to finish but I couldn't because of my illness. It really hurts that I couldn't finish school. I could have been making so much more money and would have been financially secure if only I could have finished school. I tried really hard but I kept getting depressed. I couldn't finish classes it was really frustrating.

I really have changed my perspective since becoming an atheist. I don't guilt out about most things anymore. I feel better about myself. I take hardship easier . I try to enjoy my day and focus on the positive. I try to be thankful for my life and living each day one day at at time. Each day I try to be thankful for my overall physical health. I saw a doctor recently and she wants me to get some tests done. I'm anxious about this because I don't want to find out I have cancer or something that I can't afford to treat. I will get the tests done soon. I really try to see the positive and not worry so much about what I can't control. I look at other people's lives and how positive they are and I think I can take my struggles with a better attitude.

I think alot about life and death. My sister died four years ago and it really made me think about my life. She also had Bipolar Disorder and struggled with it all her life. She couldn't work and was on disabilty all of her adult life. I used to get frustrated with her because she kept struggling with her illness. I now have a different perspective because of my struggles. I now admire her for never giving up and always trying to get the most out of her life even with her struggles. It inspired me to take my medication and manage my illness so I could be happier in life. I admire her spunk and determination to live life to the fullest. I try not to give up on my day when I am depressed but it is hard. Sometimes I let my illness get the best of me and then I feel guilty. I feel so weak some days but then I think of my sister and and try to make a go of it.

I've been wondering lately why life can be so hard. Some people have it easy while others struggle all their lives. It's not fair. I don't understand it. As a Christian I tried to make sense of it but now I just try to survive life with a little joy. I don't understand where evil comes from. I don't know why people turn out evil and predatory. It's a real mystery to me. Life is so unfair. When I was denied disability for the third time I felt that keenly. I mean I cannot work a full time job. I might be able to work part time but that's a stretch. I just have so much trouble sleeping at regular times. I have tried to change my sleep shedule but nothing seems to work long term.

I used to feel so bad because my father didn't believe in me. He was so disappointed when I couldn't finish college. He never recognized the hard work I went into avoiding disabilty. I worked so hard because of him. I wanted him to be proud of me but he never was. Sometimes I feel relieved that he is dead so he would be around to disapprove of my life as it is. He thought I was lazy and stupid and couldn't take care of myself. I felt so guilty because of him. I just recently forgave my father for not being able to love me unconditionally. It was hard but I felt like I needed to do that to move on with my life. I also forgave my mother for not showing me her love growing up. I went through my childhood and youth feeling no love from my parents. I now see that for whatever reason they were unable to show me love the way I wanted them to. I now see that this doesnt reflect upon me and my self-worth. It took me a long time to come to that conclusion.

I spent so much of my life persuing happiness. It was a monumental effort because of my illness. I couldn't understand why I couldn't be happy most of the time. I felt like a failure. Why was it so easy for some people to work and raise a family? I wanted children at one point in my life but I realized that I would be prone to making the same mistake my parents made with me. Having a mental illness makes it hard to raise unaffected children. I have a friend whose mother was mentally ill and she is in her forties dealing with post traumatic stress disorder from her childhood. I didn't want that for any of my children. I decided that I have enough on my plate just staying out of the hospital and and staying alive through my illness. I don't mean to say that people with mental illnesses can't have children I just think that they need to be diligent about their illness so their children are not traumatised.

Since my sister died young I am concerned that I might die young too. We had similar health problems and I am experiencing things that she suffered from. Not sleeping, dental problems, heart problems. My doctor thought my heartbeat was irregular and suggested a test to examine that. I don't fear death as much as I used to when I was a Christian but I don't want to leave my husband alone. He is working hard to lose weight so he doesn't die young. I should try to do the same so I can live longer than my sister.I have lost 3 dress sizes in the last year but I still have alot to go.

The biggest fear I have is ending up alone and homeless unable to get medication and institutionalized for life. I need to find a way to make money somehow. Maybe I could work at home doing some writing. I would feel so much better if I could make money and build a rainy day savings. I will research that. Writing has become much more difficult for me to do since my last manic episode. It's hard writing for long periods of time. I will work at it since I have plenty of time on my hands. I just have a hard time believing that I could actually make money writing. It's worth a try though. I have nothing to lose.

I am finally ready to let go of my guilt and feelings of inadequacy. I want so much to feel good about myself. It's a struggle to feel like I matter to people. I want so much to be happy and content with my life and not worry so much about things I can't control. I finally get that what other people feel about me doesn't have to affect my feelings about myself. It's really taken a long time to understand that. I just get so tired beating myself up for things I can't control I can't help that I have a chronic illness. I can only manage my illness and make sure my health is good.

I just want this year to be the year I turn a corner and start living my life to the full like my sister. I want to find a way to make money and take care of my health with that extra money. I just want my life to be good. I want to have joy and contentment and productivity. Time and again I turn to writing to pass the time and feel better. Maybe that's my ticket away from a life of futility and depression.